Soul Bonded
by Sparkle731
Summary: Hutch and Starsky are trapped and Starsky is dying. What will their last hours together be like? Warning: This is exactly what it sounds like. It is a death Story. Major tissue warnings apply. This is a one shot.


SOUL BONDED

Hutch and Starsky are trapped and Starsky is dying. What will their last hours together be like? Warning: This is exactly what it sounds like. It is a death Story. Major tissue warnings apply.

Beta Read by ProvencePuss

I knew there was no way out. I'd already looked enough times to know. Starsky and I were trapped inside an old building that had collapsed around us during an earthquake. When he felt the ground began to shake and the building started buckle, he had instinctively pushed me out of the way. As a result, he had been almost buried beneath the debris.

"Starsky!" I screamed frantically as the ground finally decided to stop shaking and the dust began to settle. I stumbled over to where he had been standing and stared at the pile of ruble. I began pulling at chunks of granite, pieces of glass and broken wood as I searched desperately for my missing partner. Finally I found him but there was no way I could free him. Two large wooden beams pinned his body to the ground, one across his legs and one across his abdomen and the lower part of his chest. Even without touching him, I knew that he was seriously injured.

His eyes were closed and I could hear the wheezing sound he was making as he struggled to breath. I knew that the beams were putting a tremendous amount of pressure on his lungs and his diaphragm. He more than likely had some broken ribs too. Hell, who was I was kidding. He was probably all smashed up inside. Strangely enough, his face was unmarked, except for a scrap along one side of his face and a tiny trickle of blood from his nose. His arms were free but the left one was bent at an awkward angle at his side. Since that was his dominant side, I assumed that he had thrown up his arm to protect his face and head when the building began to fall down around us.

My hand was trembling as I reached out to brush some dirt and shivers of broken glass out of his dark, thick curls. He moaned softly at my touch and turned his head slightly, leaning into my hand. It was a familiar gesture, one he always made when he was hurt and needed comforting.

"I'm right here, babe." I said in a broken voice. "Can you open your eyes for me?" His eyelids fluttered and I was rewarded with a sliver of blue. "Come on, Starsk…that's it. Open your eyes for me."

Finally, he did as I asked. A grimace of pain twisted his features for a moment before he got a handle on the pain. I hid a tiny smile. Whenever he was seriously hurt, he always tried to hide how much it hurt but I always knew. He couldn't hide anything from me. I knew him far too well.

"Hu…sh…" he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, slurring my name the way he always did when he was either drunk, doped up on paid meds, or in more pain than he could handle. "You okay?"

"I think you got things a little mixed up, Gordo." I scolded him gently. "You're the one with most of the building lying on top of you."

"You sure you're not hurt, Blondie?" Starsky asked, looking at me intently. That was another thing about my partner; he always put me first even when I didn't deserve it.

His eyes drifted closed for a minute but not before I saw the intensity of his pain reflected in those sapphire depths.

"Hey, this is no time for nap." I chided him. I tried to keep the panic from showing in my voice but I didn't want him to go to sleep. If he did, I knew he was going to die and then I'd be alone. I think he knew it too because he smiled faintly and opened his eyes again.

"Naw, just resting my eyes." He said. He was silent for a minute and I realized how much of an effort it must be for him to talk. He was having enough trouble trying to breathe. The heavy beam lying across his lower body kept him from being able to draw in a deep breath, so he was making these little panting sounds as he took shallow breathes through his mouth. He licked at his lips and looked at me hopefully. "I don't suppose you got anything to drink on ya, do ya?"

"Afraid not, pal."

"S'okay…it probably wouldn't stay down anyway." I could hear the resignation in his voice and I knew that he was trying to hold on for me. He knew that I'd lose it big time if he died on me. I tried to choke back the lump that seemed to be lodged in my throat.

Starsky didn't like soapy scenes so I had never told him how I really felt about him but I know that he knew. He was the other part of me, part of my soul. Even closer than a brother. There were no words to accurately describe just what we meant to each other or the depth of the love that we shared. Some of the gossips at the office liked to start rumors about us. They had said for years that we were more than 'just friends' because we were so close. They had never seen anything like it and I think most of them were jealous. To tell the truth, I had never had a friend like Starsky before either.

Despite our obvious differences, we seemed to complement each other and balance each other out. Where I could be arrogant and aloof, a real obnoxious bastard at times, Starsky was direct and outspoken, loyal to a fault. Especially with to me. We both had a temper but where Starsky was volatile and prone to sudden outbursts of rage, my anger was more cold and controlled, restrained except during those times when Starsky was threatened or in danger.

We had both had our share of close calls over the years but nothing quite like this. We'd both been shot, stabbed, beaten senseless, and had been in more than our share of car accidents. But it always seemed to be Starsky who got the worst end of the deal when it came to being hurt. He had been poisoned, kidnapped by a sadistic cult and tortured, and just three years ago, he had been gunned down in the parking garage at police headquarters. I really thought I was going to lose him that time. He took four bullets in the back and had suffered massive damage. Even the doctors didn't hold out any hope for his survival. But Starsky has always been one stubborn son of a bitch and he had beaten all the odds and proved everyone wrong by surviving. Not only did he survive, a medical miracle according to the doctors, but he had also spent almost a year pushing himself to the limit in order to come back to work on the streets with me. But this time, I knew in my heart that there would be no more miracles. Starsky's luck had finally run out.

I heard him cough softly and I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts. I slipped one arm underneath his shoulders and raised him up slightly to help ease his labored breathing. I scooted around so that I could lay his head in my lap, offering him comfort the only way I knew how. I saw the frothy pink foam running out of the corner of his mouth and knew that he was slowly drowning in his own blood from his internal injuries. Trying not to appear as scared as I really was, I pulled a clean hanky out of my jacket and gently wiped off his mouth.

"Thanks, Blintz." He said using the pet name that he had given me years ago. He tried to give me a crooked smile but it quickly turned into another grimace of pain.

"Just take it easy, buddy…help will be here before you know it." I said, trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince him. He saw right through me.

"Bullshit…they're not going get here in time and we both know it." He said quietly. He tried to hold back a groan but a hiss of pain still escaped his lips. His face was deathly pale and sweaty, even though there was a chill in the air around us. He looked at me and said in a strangely calm voice, "I ain't going easy, Blondie. The big guy up there wants me then he's gonna have to come and get me."

I couldn't help but smile. That sounded like Starsky. He never gave up without a fight. Even when he had been given a slow acting poison and given twenty-four hours to live, he had refused to go back to the hospital until he collapsed from the pain. It was that same determination and stubbornness that had made him fight so hard to recover when he'd been shot. That iron will to live had seen him through eighteen months in Viet Nam and over twelve years on the streets of Bay City. If there was anyway to beat this, he would.

I listened as he took a slow shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. I could feel his body trembling in my arms. He was scared too but determined not to show it. Smiling down at him fondly, I whispered, "Hey, you don't have to be strong for me. It's just you and me here and I know it hurts like hell."

"Guess I really fucked up this time, didn't I?" Starsky said in a voice that held just a hint of panic in it. Anyone else would have missed it but I heard it loud and clear. If this was to be our last time together, I vowed to do everything in my power to make sure he died with some dignity and at peace.

"Hey, since when could you predict an earthquake? I know you're good but even you aren't that good." I said, trying to smile through the tears that were flooding my eyes and blurring my vision.

Starsky started to chuckle but quickly decided against it and I saw the panic starting to mount in his eyes. It was getting harder for him to breathe and I could see that his lips were starting to turn blue from a lack of oxygen. I wrapped my arms around his chest and tried to help him ride out the pain that wracked his battered body with each breath. For several minutes, he was quiet as he concentrating on breathing in and out. Then he looked at me with those expressive blue eyes and said, "I'm not gonna make it this time, Hutch. I can feel it…"

"Don't say that!" I said a bit sharper than I intended. "Don't you dare leave me, Starsk. I'm not going to let you go!"

"I don't think you're gonna have much say in it, Blondie." Starsky said with a ghost of his usual smile. His voice was getting weaker and I knew that he was getting ready to go to a place where I couldn't follow. It felt like someone had taken their fist and rammed it through my chest, pulling out my heart. I felt a tear run down my face and reached up to angrily brush it aside. I wouldn't let him see me cry. I could at least spare him that.

"Ahhh, Hutch…" he said in a pained voice as he tried to reach for me with his right hand. His hand fell weakly against his chest and I grabbed it in mine, holding it tightly. His skin was cold and clammy and he didn't even have enough strength to curl his fingers around mine. "I'm sorry for running out on you this way, buddy…" he was wheezing badly now, fighting for each breathe he took.

"Hey, you're not running out on anybody. Just take your time getting to where you're going okay? Give me time to catch up with you." I said through my tears.

He looked at me when I said that and that silent communication that we had shared over the years said the things we couldn't say aloud.

_I love you, babe and I don't want to leave you._

_I know. I love you too but if you have to leave, don't worry about me. I won't be far behind._

_I'm scared, Hutch…but I'm glad you're here._

_Me too. Me and thee…just like always._

I suddenly jerked my head as I heard the sound of loud voices and equipment somewhere close by. My heart began to pound frantically in my chest as I realized that a rescue team had arrived. Turning my attention back to my rapidly fading partner, I said desperately "Hear that, Starsk? The Calvary is here."

"Sounds more like the fire department to me." He teased in a weak voice that I could barely hear.

"Hang on, babe…just a little bit longer. For me…" I begged, hoping against hope for another miracle. Starsky nodded slightly and closed his eyes. I held him close as I listened to the rattle in his chest and the sounds of the rescue team digging us out of the rubble.

Before I realized it, the area around us was suddenly filled with firemen, police officers and medical personnel. I felt someone trying to help me to my feet but I fought to stay with my dying partner. Then I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder and heard the gruff voice of my commanding officer, Captain Dobey.

"Come on, son." He said gently "Let them take a look at Starsky and see what needs to be done." When the Captain took my arm and tugged me to my feet, I didn't resist. I took a few steps back but still close enough that I could see what was going on. I prayed silently for God to grant us just one more miracle. The medics examining Starsky were talking too quietly between themselves for me to hear what they were saying but from the expressions on their faces, I already knew the answer. There was nothing they could do for Starsky. Not this time. One of them stood up and walked over to where the Captain and I were standing. In a soft voice, he said, "I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do for him. He's still with us but once they move those beams off him, we're gonna lose him. Because they're so heavy, they've kept enough pressure on his body that's it's kept him alive…but either way…he's dying. I'm sorry."

"I need to be with him!" I said, pulling away from the Captain and returning to my partner's side. I sank down on the ground beside him and pulled his head back into my lap. Gently I stroked at the beloved face as I waited for him to take his final breath. As if he sensed my presence, he opened his eyes one last time and locked eyes with me. I held his gaze as I heard to the machines pulling away the beams that had crushed him. I heard the rattle deep in his chest that I had heard far too many times in my lifetime. The tears fell freely from my eyes as I watched the life fade out of his eyes forever. I threw back my head and screamed "STARSKYYYYY…" Then I fell forward, covering his body with my own as the grief overwhelmed me.

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Harold Dobey packed the last of his belongings into the box sitting on his desk and took one last long look around his office. It had been six months since he had lost two of his best detectives, men who had become like sons to him and he still missed them terribly. He had known the minute that Starsky died and he heard Hutch's awful scream of pain that the big blond wouldn't be far behind. He was so devastated by Starsky's death that he had to be sedated.

At the funeral, he had stared at the coffin like a zombie, refusing to talk to anyone who spoke to him. It had come as no surprise to anyone when Hutch had slipped away after the service, gone back to his apartment and shot himself. Two men, best friends, soul bonded so deeply that one couldn't go on living without the other. Now they lay side by side for all eternity.

THE END


End file.
